Us pub ticking bloggers will do anything for your attention. Public urination, tangerine Aeros, even St Mirren home matches.
But only retiredmartin.com brings you pyromania from Turnpike Lane.
50 minutes took me from Wandworth via Vauxhall and Finsbury Park to The Westbury, my penultimate Greater London tick for GBG22. The announcer on the Wandworth to Vauxhall train was determined we were heading to Brentford, which I guess isn’t the worst place to go to by accident.
N22 hasn’t provided many pubby highlights over the years, and is worryingly close to Spurs ground, but The Westbury is an unfussy street corner boozer with good pub grub and a fine line in fire fighting.
Good beer too, a lovely rich Redemption Big Chief (NBSS 3.5) replacing the usual TT Landlord.
Good mix of custom (pushchairs, ponytails, Pravha drinkers), and sitting at the bar is clearly back in fashion.
They’re drawn by cutting edge Americana from, er, America,
and the best burger so far this year. “Enjoy, man“.
I did enjoy it, till the serviette caught the edge of tea light. Boom.
Within 3.7 seconds, slightly longer than it takes to drink a pint in fact, the barman was over putting out the fire. Always thank your firefighter.
“I should have took a picture
for the blog” I said, pathetically. Luckily, some footage was captured by the Turnpike Times;
I regained my composure, and enjoyed a bit of bants at the bar as this waistcoated gent discussed the “Card Payment Only” rules. “But what if I was a bankrupt without a bank account, would you take my fiver then ?“.
Hang on, that waistcoast looks familar. I sent Duncan the pic above.
“Is that Malt ?”.
It is ! Suffolk’s top ticker (he’s ahead of me), randomly at the same pub at the same time (obviously).
What joy ! I looked forward to an hour of hilarious jokes on our shared journey home.
“It’s a gilet, not a waistcoat” said Malt. We stopped for a quick half in a mystery pub;
When I got home my Dad asked “Did it all go up in flames ?”. How did he know ?